


Dummy

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, effigy use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sawbuck’s getting real sick and tired of Itchy’s bullshit. Turns out Stitch was real sick of it too, and now Itchy's getting a reminder why it's a bad idea to mess with the fellow who controls the effigies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dummy

Sawbuck’s getting real sick and tired of Itchy’s bullshit. He’s the worst possible person to get partnered with. No matter what they’re supposed to be doing, no matter how serious it is, Itchy always puts more time and energy into pissing people off than into focusing on the damn job. Sawbuck’s more tolerant of his bullshit than the others, but even he has limits. 

All they have to do is just sit here and watch the front of the building. They don’t even have to be down on the ground with the rest of the Felt where somebody might shoot them. Their only job is to kill anybody who comes out that front door who isn’t in the Felt. If everybody does their job, then they won’t do anything but sit on their asses until Doc comes to fetch them. Yeah, it’s boring, but it’s simple. Sawbuck’s always liked simple when it comes to jobs. 

Itchy’s never know when he’s got a simple thing right in front of him. Instead of doing what they’re supposed to do, which is just watching the fucking window and killing time, he’s trying to gossip with Sawbuck about the rest of the Felt. Sawbuck doesn’t give a fuck what the others are doing, or who they’re fucking, or any of that shit. They do their thing, he does his, and nothing else matters. It’s a good paying job with all the grub you can eat; only an idiot would try to fuck that up. 

“-so fucking Trace is yanking his pants up but he’s not fast enough so I can see that he’s got fucking tooth marks on his dick. I start looking for Fin but he’s nowhere in sight, so now I’m thinking ‘who the fuck left those marks.” The idiot in question keeps rambling even as Sawbuck does his best to ignore him. “Snowman’s got sharp teeth but we both know she wouldn’t but her mouth anywhere near that fucker’s dick, plus I hear she’s pretty good about not nipping ol’ willy if what I heard about her and Die was true. Probably is because Die gets around like a wooden nickle in a whore house.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Sawbuck snaps at Itchy, leaning up to glance out the window. Nothing so far, not even any signs that the Felt’s at work. He sips his coffee and tucks it behind the leg of his chair so Itchy can’t knock it over. “We got a job to do.” 

“Who pissed in your cornflakes? Wait who am I kidding, you wouldn’t eat cornflakes unless they were coated with chocolate sauce and about two pounds of butter.” Itchy gives Sawbuck’s belly a smack, but he does it light enough that Sawbuck and him don’t end up in the wrong time period. Sawbuck swings at Itchy, but the speedy fuck’s out of reach before he’s even following through. “What’s wrong, you jealous that you’re not fucking Snowman?”

“If I wanted her, I could have her.” He growls, ignoring the way Itchy howls with laughter. Sawbuck could, if he wanted to, that’s a fucking fact. She’s a nice dame, but he’s not interested, especially not when she comes with a side of Spades Slick. He has a hard enough time staying in the present without some stab-happy maniac trying to carve a hole in his torso because Sawbuck’s banging his not-girlfriend. “What is your fucking problem? First you’re pissing off Trace and Die, then I heard from Quarters that you and Stitch were going at it today. You got a death wish or something?” 

“I’ve got the oppsite of that! See, nobody in the Felt can kill me.” Itchy looks too smug for his own good, leaning back and tipping his chair a little in the process. “Stitch threatened to let me suffer, but that’s the worst he can do. Doc says English needs us all alive for something, so no matter what, you can’t kill me. All you can do is threaten me or try and beat me up.” 

Sawbuck scowls at Itchy. Fuck, the little bastard has a point. He’s tempted to kick the back leg of the chair and let that loudmouth asshole hit the floor, but it wouldn’t do him any good. Sawbuck’s got a job and he plans on doing it. He turns back to the window, pretending he can’t hear or see Itchy. 

“Where was I? Right, so it’s not Snowman and it’s not Fin, and since we weren’t allowed into town because of that shit Quarters pulled at the bar, I know it’s not one of the girls from town. And then it fucking hits me! I know whose teeth are on his dick! They’re-” 

Itchy finally, mercifully, shuts the fuck up. Sawbuck sighs with relief, letting go of the shotgun and glancing back out the window. He’s been trying to tune Itchy out all night that he’s barely aware of Itchy making sounds, especially since he’s not so fucking loud anymore. Only when Itchy grabs onto Sawbuck and shakes him does he look over.

His mouth’s open in a circle, and he’s whining steadily, but there’s no sound coming out. Sawbuck frowns, trying to figure out what’s wrong. It only becomes clear when Itchy closes his hand into a circle and mimes something thrusting into his mouth, then holds up nine fingers. He just laughs. “I told you not to piss off Stitch.” 

Itchy grunts out what’s probably a ‘fuck you’, getting up and heading for the door. Sawbuck rises, grabbing onto Itchy and yanking him back. Itchy protests, but Sawbuck just marches him back to his chair. 

“Take it up with Stitch when you get home. Doc says we have a job to do, so we need to do it.” He keeps a hand on Itchy’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be hard for Itchy to knock him out of the time stream, just a jab or two, but he’ll be going wherever Sawbuck goes if he does. He knows even Itchy doesn’t want to risk being left four hundred years in the past. 

Sawbuck goes back to focusing on the window, tuning Itchy out again. It’s a bit harder to this time, especially when Itchy’s twitching in his grip and drooling on the floor. Sawbuck keeps casting an eye toward him, his dick twitching slightly at the sight. Stitch must be face-fucking Itchy’s dummy judging by the way Itchy’s breathing. 

Even though he’s been waiting for Itchy to shut the fuck up for a least an hour, now he finds himself wanting to fill the silence, just so he doesn’t have to listen to Itchy panting. “‘least you’re able to breathe.” 

Itchy rolls his eyes, gripping at Sawbuck. What a dumb fuck. He goes back to staring out the window and trying to ignore that his pants are getting tight. Sawbuck can jerk it later, when he doesn’t have watch the front. Getting off to Itchy isn’t exactly what he would prefer, but goddamn if the sound of him sucking on a cock isn’t getting Sawbuck a little hot under the collar. 

Apparently this doesn’t go unnoticed, as suddenly he’s got Itchy jabbing him in the crotch with his hand. “Fuck, watch it!” He smacks Itchy’s hand away. Itchy attempts to get offended - maybe, Sawbuck’s not entirely sure what the fuck’s going on with his expressions when his mouth is making an O - but Sawbuck just wraps a hand around the side of his face. “Itchy, keep your hands to yourself or I’ll-” 

Itchy interrupts him to mumble loudly. He uses his hands to make all sorts of gestures that Sawbuck really can’t afford to waste time on figuring out. What he does know is that Itchy’s slinging some insults at him, Sawbuck’s dick and probably the situation in general. It’s about the time that he figures out that Itchy’s talking about his mother that he loses his temper. 

His grip tightens on Itchy’s head. “You got two choices; shut up, sit down and watch the fucking window, or I’ll finish what Stitch started and fuck your mouth. You got it?” 

Itchy brings his fingers up in a V in front of his mouth, giving Sawbuck a fuck-you finger while performing fake cunninglingus on Sawbuck’s mother. It’s as close as Itchy can come to saying ‘please cram another dick in my mouth’ without saying a word. 

Sawbuck stands, manhandling Itchy over to the window. He shoves Itchy on his knees, and when he’s down, his head is just below the window frame. Sawbuck can still keep an eye on things from here without completely flashing his dick at everyone. And it’ll keep Itchy stuck in one place. He undoes his fly with his free hand, pulling his cock out. It’s worth it just to watch Itchy’s eyes bug out. 

“I’d tell you to open up, but...” He chuckles as Itchy turns his head up to face Sawbuck, giving him an incredulous stare. Sawbuck’s gotten that plenty of times in his life. Nobody ever realizes what he’s packing until it’s out in the open. He strokes his cock a couple of times before pushing into Itchy’s gaping mouth. Stitch is still working on Itchy and he’s all sorts of ready. Sawbuck grunts, sliding in as much as is comfortable for Itchy before he starts thrusting. 

Normally, he’d have to take this slow. His cock was big and he knew it could be uncomfortable for a lot of people. You had to let ‘em warm up to it, slowly figure out how deep they could take it and how much of it they even wanted. When he was with people he liked (or at least people he didn’t want to piss off), he had to let them set the pace. 

Itchy’s already got one cock in his mouth, so he’s warmed up. And he did also piss Sawbuck off, so he’s not really concerned with keeping on Itchy’s good side. Itchy grabs hold of Sawbuck’s pants, digging his fingers into him but not doing it so hard that they end up in another time period. Sawbuck’s got half his cock in Itchy’s mouth, and he’s watching Itchy make a mess of it, drooling all over the place. He’s sucking a little, though it’s clear that Stitch’s cock is fucking his rhythm up. Sawbuck can’t feel Stitch, but he wonders if Stitch can feel the effect he’s having on Itchy. He decides to see if he can, thrusting deeper into Itchy’s mouth. Itchy’s eyes get big, but he doesn’t stop sucking. Maybe he can’t. 

He pushes in as deep as he can go before Itchy starts gagging and then he pulls off, letting him catch his breath. Itchy gags, shaking his head somewhat. Looks like Stitch had the same idea as Sawbuck, only he’s not letting Itchy up to breathe. Itchy raises his hand to hit something, and Sawbuck catches it before the dumbass can knock them both thirty years into the past. He undoes his belt, letting his pants slide down to his ankles as he catches Itchy’s hands and belts them behind his back. “If you fuck this up for us, Doc’s going to have our hide. Don’t be a dumbshit.” 

Itchy rolls his eyes, struggling with the belt. He coughs and catches his breath as Stitch backs off, and it’s Sawbuck’s turn to get his dick wet again, pushing into Itchy’s mouth. He starts working with him, each thrust getting a little deeper than the last. The resistance he meets at the back of Itchy’s throat is amazing, and he grunts a little with each tight squeeze. It’s hard to concentrate on fucking Itchy’s mouth and keeping an eye on the window, but he does his best, glancing up at least once or twice a minute to check if somebody’s coming out of the building. He can hear the occasional pop of a gunshot - sounds like the Felt’s making their move.

Sawbuck finally breaks Itchy in, getting his cock into Itchy’s throat. He keeps on pushing it though, trying to be able to get Itchy all the way down the shaft. Sawbuck can count on one hand the number of times he’s done this. It’s fucking great though, and he has to back off to keep from coming too quickly, especially when Itchy’s all but asking for it.

Itchy coughs when Sawbuck’s off of him, glancing up and surprising Sawbuck when he speaks. “Look fats, can you bend me over something? Stitch keeps trying to fuck me up the ass and it’s feeling really fucking weird to be kneeling while he’s doing that.” 

“Fine, give me a sec.” Sawbuck glances around. There’s an end-table shoved in a corner and he quickly grabs it, dragging it over. He picks Itchy up and lays him across it, Itchy’s ass pointing toward the window. “You want your pants off?” 

“Who gives a fuck, it’s not like he’s here to handle that. I’ll take off my pants later in private when I don’t need to worry about getting slivers in my dick from humping the side of this table. Now c’mere and shove that cock in my throat again. I’m so fucking close to having it all down.” Itchy squirms, reaching his head forward to try lick Sawbuck’s cock, which is jutting out of his trousers. Sawbuck steps in close enough to let Itchy barely reach it, his lips and tongue grazing the head. He stands those light desperate touches for as long as he can before he gets impatient and takes those last few steps in, sticking his cock in Itchy’s mouth. 

It’s a lot easier to get in deep this way. There’s not so much of an angle on Itchy’s throat and mouth so he can just keep pushing in, groaning as he feels tongue and teeth give way to his tight throat. Itchy really gets into it, sucking when he can and bobbing his head when he’s able, and otherwise just taking it. He’s also making lots of sounds around Sawbuck, little grunts and moans of his own. Sawbuck watches as Itchy shoves his ass into the air, trying to fuck an imaginary cock. 

“If I’d known how fucking tolerable you were with a fucking cock in each end, I would have invited someone else to tag along and keep you in line.” He glances over Itchy, toward the other warehouse. No sign of the asshole with the briefcase. He better stay inside until after Sawbuck gets his rocks off, or he’s going to wish he’d never been born. 

Itchy mumbles something, trying to pull his head off to say it without interference. Sawbuck could help him take the cock out to hear Itchy, but he’s not interested in more insults about his mother or his weight and it sounds like Itchy’s trying to spit out both. He just grabs Itchy’s head with both hands and makes his move. Itchy twitches and gags when Sawbuck slides his cock in, but he soldiers through it and Sawbuck finally feels Itchy’s lips wrap around the base of his cock. He just holds Itchy down, grunting softly to himself at how fucking tight and hot and perfect it feels. Itchy struggles to keep cool while he can’t breathe, and Sawbuck watches as Itchy’s hips buck back and forth. Stitch much be really fucking him hard to get him moving like that. 

He’s close when he pulls off of Itchy and while Itchy catches his breath, Sawbuck strokes himself. Itchy keeps jerking his hips back, egging on Stitch back in his boutique. “In or out?” 

“Now you’re fucking asking me what I want? Inside, you asshole, I don’t have anything to clean my face off with and I’m not walking around for the rest of the day with cum on my face or on my shirt. Plus Stitch is already fucking angry enough with me, I don’t need to give him more reasons to cram dicks into men while I’m working- NGGHHHH!” Itchy arches against the desk, cursing hard and loud. “Titty fucking holy mother! If that asshole doesn’t give me a reach around I’m going to come in his coffee for a fucking month!” 

“Just open up and shut it.” Sawbuck presses the head of his cock against Itchy’s mouth. Itchy does as he’s told for fucking once and opens up, sliding Sawbuck’s cock in his mouth. He sucks hard on the head, tongue working over it like a champ. Sawbuck keeps stroking the lower half of his shaft, feeling his orgasm build. “When we get back, I’m going to thank Stitch for this. This whole stakeout could have been a total nightmare without this. Next time we get stuck together-”

What he’s got planned for next time never gets out of his mouth as the pressure becomes too much and he comes with a loud grunt. He strokes himself through the whole thing, and Itchy sucks and swallows without a single fucking complaint. Sawbuck finally pulls out, panting and spent, and flops down on his chair. It creaks but doesn’t collapse. Sawbuck just lets the good feels keep running through him, eyes fixed on Itchy as he braces his chest against the table and keeps thrusting up.

Unlike the chair, when the table creaks, it falls apart and drops Itchy on his face. Sawbuck winces but Itchy’s still grunting and going at it. He’s bleeding a little from his forehead but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than shoving his ass into the air. “Having fun?”

“Go gobble a knob already.” Itchy hisses, making an ass of himself. Sawbuck snorts and glances out the window, not expecting to see anything. He’s wrong; there’s some skinny Prospitian with a briefcase clutched against his chest making a run for the alleyway. Fuck, they have to take care of that. He yanks his pants up with his left hand, grabbing Itchy with the other and yanking him onto his feet. “No, fuck you, I’m nearly there! You got to come, you can’t stop me! This is fucking police brutality, or whatever the gangster version of that is!”

“You can jerk off on the way home, we need to stop that fucker with the briefcase. He’s in the alley! Go stop him!” Sawbuck gives Itchy a shove forward. The speedster stumbles but catches himself, zipping down the stairs. It’s only as he’s disappearing down the staircase that Sawbuck realizes he’s left his belt on the idiot’s arms. “Son of a bitch!” 

Sawbuck grabs his shotgun with his right hand and heads down the stairs, keeping his pants hitched with the left. If they fuck this up, he can kiss simple duties goodbye for the next few months. He grumbles as he heads down the stairs as fast as he can, wishing he hadn’t been so fucking smart about belting Itchy’s hands back. This is one of the few times where being stupid about it would have paid off better for the both of ‘em.


End file.
